Story of Seraph
by Daxius X
Summary: The Story of Seraph, the Origin of the Agents, and the History of the Merovingian. Set in the Third Matrix. Chapter 3 is up!
1. Mute

_Agents._

_The enforcers of the Matrix._

_You Humans know nothing of them._

_You think the Agents are just another program from the Machines._

_They're not._

* * *

The Janitor whistled softly as he swept the floors. Picking up a rusty beer can, the twenty-something brown haired man set his broom against a wall and threw the can deftly into a bin on the other side of the room. The can landed perfectly into the trash, and the man gave himself a small cheer.

Finishing off the concrete floors of the bathroom, the janitor adjusted his nametag and walked over to the sink, setting down the broom once more and turning on the tap, washing his hands and whistling to a soft tune. Looking up to the mirror, the janitor's eyes widened as he saw a man in a suit with dark sunglasses behind him. Grabbing his broom and turning around to defend himself against the unknown person, he whipped his head around and came to face...

Nothing.

Nobody.

The man in the suit was gone.

Feeling very confused, the man put the broom into a closet and hurriedly walked out of the bathroom.

In the mirror, the suited man's eyes followed the janitor's form walking out of the room behind dark, angular sunglasses.

_

* * *

_

The machines found out that the best way to defeat a Human was to use a Human.

_So they took a select few from the Fields and bred them separately from the others._

_They insert you into the Matrix like the others, and wait until you're ready._

_Then they take you while no one else is around._

_And then you're doomed._

* * *

The Janitor briskly walked down the corridor, shaking his head. Turning a corner, he looked down the dark corridor and saw him again. The man in the suit.

Terror leaped through his veins. He would have cried out if he were not mute. The janitor turned around and ran down the hallway he'd just come through, when he saw the suited man step out from the doorway. The _same_ suited man, peering at him from behind sunglasses, an earpiece in his ear.

The janitor stopped dead in his tracks. Looking around himself in desperation, he found an elevator behind him and pressed on the button desperately. The man in the suit frowned and started walking towards the janitor slowly. The janitor stepped back from the elevator and tried a door. Locked! He tried another, also locked. The man in the suit was coming closer, and the janitor sank down in fear. He closed his eyes and abandoned himself to his fate. The suited man was nearly right in front of him.

Suddenly, the Janitor's eyes snapped open as he heard the elevator behind him give a slight 'ding!', indicating it had arrived. Scrambling backwards, hope rushing in his heart, the janitor threw himself into the lift and pressed the 'Door Close' button rapidly. Looking at the elevator doors, he saw the doors close, ever so slowly. The janitor's heart hammered in his chest as he prayed the man in the suit wouldn't catch him. He didn't stop to think why he was so frightened, only being sure that the man in the suit meant trouble.

The doors closed slowly.

7 inches...

5 inches...

3...

For a brief second the janitor thought he'd escaped. Then he saw the shadow of the suited man and his arm stopping the doors from closing.

The man stepped in as the terrified janitor backed himself against the wall. Closing the elevator doors behind him, the man in the suit looked down at the janitor, who was weeping in fear, and knelt down in front of him.

"Inevitable," the agent whispered, and the janitor barely had time to wonder what he meant when he felt the agent plunge his hand into his chest.

_

* * *

_

They rip your consciousness, burn it to the Matrix, and destroy your body.

_Most of the converted simply accept their fate._

* * *

On the ground level of a building, a dark corridor that was otherwise silent rang with a 'ding!' as the elevator doors opened.

The Janitor, clothed in a black and white suit and an earpiece, stepped out. There was no sign of the other agent in the elevator. Looking from side to side, the janitor cracked his neck, and pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, putting them on over his blazing green eyes. The Janitor looked down at his suit, and sneered with distaste at the nametag pinned to it. Taking the tag off, slowly, deliberately, the janitor held it up in front of him and sneered once more.

"Inevitable," he murmured, not seeming surprised that he could now talk, even though he was born mute. Tossing the nametag to the floor, the new Agent stalked off, out into the building, into the darkness.

A gold-coloured nametag with 'SMITH' glittered on the carpeted floor, the only trace of a janitor who disappeared that day to begin a life as an Agent of the system.

_

* * *

_

Then again, some resist.

_I did._

_My name is Seraph, and this is my story._


	2. Blind

_My name is Seraph, and this is my story._

* * *

The blind man suddenly dropped his cane and started running. He didn't fear hitting anything; he didn't need sight to tell him where he was. He heard the unrelenting footsteps behind him, and his pace got that much quicker. 

Seraph burst around the corner, his glasses askew, throwing himself into local Chinatown. The day was still bright; he could feel the sun's rays on his head even if he couldn't see them. Unusually for a Friday afternoon the main street was eerily empty; everybody had ended up inside the various restaurants and stores as if it were raining. Seraph counted his steps, then stopped abruptly and threw himself to his left, into the nook where he often hid from drunks who tried to start fights.

Seraph hastened to regulate his breathing, and listened intently for any more footsteps. There were none. Allowing himself a sigh of relief, his senses slammed into alarm when he felt some of his breath bounce back into his face. _There was someone right in front of him, and they had no heartbeat or breathing to hear._ Seraph's eyes widened instinctually as he scrambled back, hand scrabbling for the doorknob which would let him into the underground carpark. He heard a single footstep, deafeningly loud, one single step in his direction from the lifeless body that was walking towards him slowly. As Seraph's hands searched, searched for the doorknob that was one of two ways he could escape this undead, this machine, whatever this thing was with no heartbeat and no breath, his ears heard the agent in front of him draw a single breath.

Seraph analysed that breath as he did most things. The breath was unnatural, too carefully done, as if someone had studied how to breathe, had prepared their entire life for it, and it had been executed perfectly. A perfect breath for a machine that didn't need it. And with that breath, one word was uttered, and it induced such terror that it was burned into Seraph's mind.

"Inevitable..." hissed the agent, drawing back his palm to stab Seraph in the chest.

Several things happened then. Seraphs hand found the elusive door, which turned out to be locked. The agent called Smith plunged his hand towards Seraph. Seraph's other arm moved of its own accord... and caught the wrist of Smith.

Time froze for a split second.

Then in one swift motion Seraph took his jacket off and spread his wings.

Despite himself, Smith was surprised, and stepped back. Seraph's 12 foot wingspan unfurled slowly at first, then snapped out. Taking off his glasses, Seraph concentrated, and the world appeared to him as his eyes lost their milky veil and glowed electric green.

It wasn't Sight, exactly, not in its strictest sense. Seraph was perceiving the world as rushing lines of green code, outlines of structures constantly changing. And Smith was full of the code; so much condensed into his body that it seemed as if he were a pulsating green person. The only part of him that wasn't glowing were his sunglasses; those were deepest, darkest black.

To Seraph, this was as close to sight as he had ever experienced, and the only two colours he knew of was this glowing green and the black that lay beyond it. And it scared him.

Looking up at the green-flecked sky, Seraph spread his wings to fly.


	3. Sight

_Looking up at the green-flecked sky, Seraph spread his wings to fly._

* * *

From the corner of his eyes Seraph saw the swirling green glow of Smith hurdle towards him. Slamming into Seraph with his shoulder, Smith drove the winged man back, smashing through the door behind him in an explosion of wooden splinters. Seraph flew over the railing of a staircase and managed to flare his wings, catching himself after a two storey fall. Smith glanced over the edge and then sneered as he himself jumped down, landed and spotted a wingtip disappearing around the corner to the car park. 

Seraph ran for his life, his powered eyes telling him the ceiling was too low for flying. Folding in his wings, Seraph hid behind a column and checked behind, or rather, through, the green rush that was his hiding place. He felt his spine chill.

Smith, noticeable by his ever present glow, was joined by four others. They too shone with the same intensity as Smith but for their dark, black sunglasses. Seraph stumbled back, knowing he could not hope to hide from five of these zombies at once. Crouching into a stance, Seraph readied himself... for the inevitable.

Their footsteps got closer. Seraph heard them; too perfect, in exact synchronisation, five people in the same step. They were nearly within line of sight. Seraph felt a bead of sweat drip from his brow.

Seven more feet... five more feet... three...

Without warning, something, no, _someone_, tall and wispy, burst from the floor before Seraph. Seraph almost cried out when the wispy ghost-like man solidified, his code growing stable, and half turned to him to put a finger to his lips with an arrogant smirk. Another ghost, a twin of the first, appeared and solidified right next to his brother, his dreadlocks whipping around as he too half turned. Grinning, the two looked at each other and reached into their pockets, pulling out straight razors which they flipped open.

"Le's get'em," said the twin on the right.

"I hav'nt killed me 'n Agent in a _long_ time," replied the other.

The two turned incorporeal and ran to engage the 'agents' before Seraph could ask them who they were, but Seraph had heard more people heading towards his direction. An agent upon seeing the Twins lifted his hand to some sort of earpiece and exclaimed "Exiles! Bring in more reinforcements!"

The Twins leapt at the reporting agent and slashed savagely at him, but the agent dodged so quickly that Seraph could see several afterimages of code. Two of the other agents ran to assist, but a blur of a man flew past and knocked them flying. The blur swept through the ranks when Seraph realised that one of the Agents was fleeing: on a closer look it turned out to be Smith. Seraph allowed himself a sigh of relief, letting down his guard, when an agent grabbed him from behind; one hand over his mouth to muffle his voice, the other hand plunged through his chest.

Seraph screamed in silence as the electrical shock ripped through his body. He felt a sudden disconnection from the universe and his eyes, his eyes were free of their blazing green glow and had turned to brown. Seraph was almost overloaded with this new sense: He could See! Colours he never knew existed bombarded him and he shut his eyes in agony, willing it to stop. To Seraph the short, milliseconds-long encounter felt like hours, until someone pulled the Agent off him moments before he was converted.

Persephone lightly tugged at the Agent's shoulder, startling him. The Agent whipped his head around to see her applying a coat of lipstick, and she pulled him close, kissing him on the mouth hungrily. The Agent made a choking sound, then fell limp to the ground and faded away. A blur stopped short next to her, and a Frenchman lightly put his arm around Persephone's waist.

"The _Kiss of Death_," noted the Merovingian. "I never get tired of seeing that."

Persephone had her eyes closed in pleasure. "Nor I, my love. It's amazing how good an agent tastes," she said, her tongue lightly touching her lip. She indicated the limp winged body slumped on the floor. "What are we going to do with him?"

The Merovingian summoned the Twins towards him with a click of his fingers, and they reluctantly finished off the last standing agent with a savage slash, beheading him. The Merovingian gestured with his head and the Twins picked up Seraph roughly.

The Merovingian frowned. "Careful with him! That is no way to treat the One!"


End file.
